


A Change of Heart

by elbell3618



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Episode: s08e05 The Bells, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 04:57:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18910012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elbell3618/pseuds/elbell3618
Summary: Arya goes back to Gendry after surviving King's Landing, prompting a proposal do-over.





	A Change of Heart

_‘I’m going home.’_ Arya’s battered body rushed with relief as soon as her hand found the reins of the horse.

They were both fighters. In a waking nightmare, they pressed on until it ended. And now they could escape, together. Arya softly hushed the creature, running her free hand over its shoulder.

Arya knew now what Sandor meant. She didn’t have to be like him, walking into death for an attempt at revenge. Though it got her far, she had years left that didn’t need to be tainted in anger and pain. As much as Sandor could, he cared enough to not let her lose those years. Now that she had her ticket out, she as ready to take her life back from anger.

With gentle confidence, Arya led her steed to rubble. Climbing on the ruined stone, she hoisted herself up and swung her leg over. Though it hurt her, the horse was clearly fine. Smiling in relief, she clicked her tongue and the horse ran forward. Tears filled her eyes as she thought about making the ride to Winterfell.

…

After riding for roughly two hours, Arya felt safe enough to steady to an easy trot and let her mind work. The dust had finally shaken off enough for her to stop feeling like a statue, and fresh blood no longer welled from her wounds.

“O-oh… Oh, Gods. Jon.” Arya felt like a monster.

Jon could have been dying on the ground in King’s Landing, and she didn’t even bother to look before running off. She pulled the horse around to head back but stopped upon seeing the smoking horizon. Once again, a feeling of powerlessness rushed over her.

_‘What do you think you’d be able to do?’_

She knew deep down that it would be fruitless to go back. Besides, she wasn’t even sure if Daenerys was finished. There’s no way she could survive a beating like the one she’d already gotten. She’d also risk finding Sandor there, and she didn’t have it in her to face whatever that would mean. Feeling heavy, Arya turned her horse again and continued on the path to Winterfell. Jon had to help himself; he’d done it many times before.

…

She was met with no fanfare when she returned to Winterfell. Most of the citizens had either died in the Battle of Winterfell or gone to fight in King’s Landing. Those who were there were too tired to mind one lone girl coming back. She wasn’t exactly calling much attention either, covered in filth and her clothes worn ragged.

She rode her horse to the makeshift stables, hastily preparing it food and water. She’d tend to it later, but she needed to take care of something else first. Turning on her heel and wincing at the pain in her legs, she strode towards the forge.

…

Gendry was gutted he couldn’t go to King’s Landing. He wanted to see Cersei taken down as much as the next man, but he was practically locked in the forge to repair broken weapons. On top of that, he was still stinging at Arya’s rejection. He hadn’t heard even a whisper about her since, but he was too ashamed to try and find her.

He wasn’t making plans to get to Storm’s End, either. He had no bloody idea how to be a Lord, and he was putting off learning as long as he could. Especially after being shot down by the one person he could ever want by his side.

 _‘Would they even want a Lord without any heirs? Without plans to make any?’_ Gendry couldn’t stifle a bitter laugh at the thought.

He hammered the sword on the anvil harder, overcorrecting the bend in it. He swore under his breath as he flipped it over again. He shouldn’t even bother with this mood.

“I take it they wouldn’t let you fight. I know you wanted to.”

Gendry smashed his hand in surprise, dropping the sword with a clatter. He didn’t bother turning around. He took a moment to think, rubbing his aching hand.

“No, can’t let the new Lord die yet.” Gendry sneered, spitting the words out like poison as he picked up his current project.

He gave it another good whack before Arya could say anything and kept it up to give her a hint. He wasn’t exactly making any progress on the sword, but he could at least try to drown out the world with the sound. He should have known it wouldn’t work. She wouldn’t let it work.

“It doesn’t help that it would mean losing our best blacksmith too.” She raised her voice over the ringing of the metal, but it made the hoarseness in her voice obvious and pulled a dry cough from her throat.

That was enough to get a glance from Gendry, followed by a double take.

“Gods Arya, you look like shit.”

“Thanks.” She wheezed out, still coughing.

“I didn’t- Sit down. Just, sit down, please.” Gendry started to backpedal his statement, but instead strode to Arya and carefully pushed her to sit on the bags of wheat against the wall, the nearest place for her to rest. He repressed the memory of the last time they were here.

“I’m not sure I’m up for another round.” Arya couldn’t resist a little teasing, but her voice was still ragged.

Longing and sadness flashed through Gendry’s eyes before he could drop his gaze, and Arya realized her mistake. She opened her mouth to apologize, but her voice failed, and she gave off a rough squeak instead.

“Here, drink what you need.” Gendry spoke dryly, holding out a flask he pulled from his belt.

Arya snatched the container from Gendry and took down a gulp. It ached at first, but soon felt like the best drink she’d ever had. After a few more solid drinks, she offered it back to Gendry. He took it back wordlessly. With a sigh, Arya accepted that she needed to cut the tension.

“I’ve had a… A change of heart. After what I saw in King’s Landing.” Arya’s voice came out soft and quiet, unusual for the youngest Stark girl.

Gendry looked at her, puzzled. “Am I supposed to know what that means?” He swallowed down hope rising in his throat.

Arya didn’t realize it, but another tear slipped down her face. “I can’t do it Gendry; I can’t fight like that. That wasn’t fighting, it was slaughtering.” Arya tried to keep her voice level, but her voice cracked anyway.

“I tried. God damn it, I tried, but they’re all dead anyway! They did nothing to deserve that, but they burned like the rest of them. They all burned and crushed the same, and for what?” Arya’s voice was slowly unraveling into sobs as she pictured the mothers and daughters she tried to save.

Still fighting back his feelings, Gendry took the crumbling Stark into a hug. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t off-put by seeing her like this. Even the night they shared before she left didn’t feel so… raw.

“Ask me again.” Arya’s voice was muffled against Gendry’s chest and through her sobs.

“What?”

“Ask me again!”

“Ask you what again?”

“You know exactly what.” Arya’s voice was so soft Gendry could barely hear it.

Gendry froze, the hand that had been rubbing Arya’s back stilling. At the change, Arya pulled herself away and looked at Gendry with determination. Her eyes were wet with tears, but she still looked fierce.

“I can’t do anything for the North running around like a scared dog. I kill with reason and justice, and there was none of that around Daenerys. I need to get out of here, and I need a position to do it. I need authority to help.”

“A-Arya…” Gendry was disappointed.

Arya saw the emotions flashing in Gendry’s eyes. Pain, disappointment, desire. Her own widened as she realized how she must have sounded. Gods, emotional conversations had never been her strong suit.

“I also need a reminder of why I’m doing this. Why I walked away from Cersei and came back. You may have been a part of that.” Arya’s eyes looked for anywhere but Gendry’s face to rest, but she spoke quickly, as though she couldn’t fix her statement fast enough. Even from the corner of her eye, she could see a smile pulling Gendry’s lips.

Gendry slid down on one knee, finding Arya’s hands with his. “Arya, I mean what I said about none of this meaning anything if you’re not here with me. I won’t ask you to be the Lady of Storm’s End, but I do ask you to be with me as yourself. Be my family.”

Arya gently squeezed Gendry’s hands and smiled, more tears in her eyes. “I can do that much.” Ignoring the aches in her back, Arya leaned down and kissed Gendry. Gendry kissed her back with the same love and excitement as the first time around.

…

They knew it wouldn’t be easy. Arya’s family was sure to be surprised with her change from flirting with death to embracing life. Most of them hadn’t even properly met Gendry yet. Gendry still wasn’t sure he could use a dinner fork, and they still had a Mad Queen and journey to Storm’s End to get through. But in that moment, lips locked and lives intertwining, none of it mattered.


End file.
